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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27481168">TF2 Song Prompts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ControlBar/pseuds/ControlBar'>ControlBar</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Team Fortress 2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, In chapter 1, M/M, My First Fanfic, RED Medic and BLU Spy are bros here somehow, ooc characters galore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:13:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,622</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27481168</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ControlBar/pseuds/ControlBar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I like songs. I like writing. How about I mix them both? I decided for my first post here, I listen to songs then write a story based on them!. There will also be sketches at the end of each chapter. :) Changed it to just have TF2 fics.</p><p> </p><p>Edited the tags, I'm bad with them :[</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Medic/Soldier (Team Fortress 2), One-Sided Scout/Miss Pauling, in chapter 4 - Relationship, in chapter 6 - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Nameless</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>https://youtu.be/5S21AIWMLbw<br/>Fresh Static Snow by Porter Robinson<br/></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Soldier looked around the building, observing the Projectile Weapons Expo. With the one off-day BLU has given him, he feels like luck was on his side when he heard about the expo. While looking around, he finds a familiar black man with an eyepatch in a crowd. Was that Demoman? Before the patriot marches forward, he stops. </p>
<p>There are two Demomen. What if it was a RED? He ponders for a bit, even consulting George Washington. The former president agrees that he should approach the man.</p>
<p>He squeezes himself through the crowd, trying to reach the Scot. He reaches for the man's arm, making Demoman turn with a surprised face.</p>
<p>"Soldier?"</p>
<p>He pulls Demoman away from the crowd into an empty hallway. "Identify yourself, maggot!" Demoman frowns. "T-"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Soldier punches Demoman's shoulder. Demoman rubs his shoulder and groans while Soldier crossed his arms in disappointment. "Not your name, maggot! Faction and class!"</p>
<p>"Ya dunnae have tae yell and hit, lad! RED Demoman. There ya go, happy?" Soldier pouts. Turns out this man isn't his teammate. "A RED maggot? You're lucky I'm pretending to be a civilian right now."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before he could leave, Demoman clasps Soldier's arm. "Wait, wait! Seeing as we already ken each other, can we... stick together? Ain't fun without a friend, aye?"</p>
<p>Soldier shoves the arm away. "I'm not your friend. I'm your enemy." Demoman rolls his eye.</p>
<p>"Aye, but we aren't in Teufort right now, aren't we? Right now, you're not a BLU Soldi-"</p>
<p>Soldier lunges at Demoman.</p>
<p>"I AM A SOLDIER! YOU MAGGOTS NEED TO LEARN HOW-" "Gah! Calm down! What I mean," he pushes Soldier off him, "is that you're not a BLU right now. And I'm not a RED. Are we on the job?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Soldier thinks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Negatory."</p>
<p>"Then we're pretendin' to be civilians! Meanin', we have to pretend to be friends." Soldier nods. For a RED, this Demoman is very smart.</p>
<p>"So that's what we should do? Affirmative!" He takes Demoman's hand.</p>
<p>"Onward!"</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"What's yer name?"</p>
<p>Soldier flinches and looks at Demoman. He looks back at the water. "Classified."</p>
<p>Demoman chuckles then rests his head on his hand. "We've been hangin' out for awhile now, aye?" He stands up and stretches. The boat shakes. "Why dunnae ya want to tell me yer name?"</p>
<p>Soldier huffs. "Company policy."</p>
<p>"I think we already violated it with our friendship, lad. How about I tell mine?"</p>
<p>"Negatory! And we're not violating it if they don't know!"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Soldier calms down and toys with the fishing rod. "I don't want to accidentally yell out your name during battle."</p>
<p>After a bit of silence, an arm wraps around Soldier, booze in hand.</p>
<p>"If it worries ya that much, fine. We still have fish to catch!"</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"An eye museum."</p>
<p>"Affirmative."</p>
<p>"For our next adventure."</p>
<p>"Affirmative." </p>
<p>Demoman places a hand on Soldier's shoulder. "Now why would I want to go to an eye museum, Solly?"</p>
<p>"Because you have one eye!"</p>
<p>"And?"</p>
<p>"I thought you would want to see more eyes and know what they look like!"</p>
<p>Demoman sighs and places his other hand on his hip. "Fine. That'll do."</p>
<p>He chuckles.</p>
<p>"I should've probably told ya how I lost my eye, huh? Well..."</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"You live in a mansion!?"</p>
<p>"Aye. Mum ain't impressed with it, though."</p>
<p>Soldier pats his suit. "How did you get all this money?"</p>
<p>"Jobs. Money. Dunnae ya get paid?"</p>
<p>Soldier shakes his head. Demoman squints his eye. "Ya serious? And you're not asking for it?"</p>
<p>"Negatory. I do not need useless material possessions! Except for real American goods!"</p>
<p>"That explains why ya live in an dainty apartment."</p>
<p>Demoman adjusts his bow tie, then looks at Soldier's tie. "Ya can't even tie right. Ya need to be presentable."</p>
<p>"I don't need to pe-re-sent-a-bel, whatever that word means!"</p>
<p>Demoman sighs.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Demoman stares at the sword in his hand. Betrayal. Was everything pretend for the BLU Soldier? Were those moments, when he held a cheery smile on his face, a lie?</p>
<p>Their friendship - was it ever real? Was it something you can drop and replace for a bunch of shiny weaponry?</p>
<p>His fist tightens around the Eyelander. Then so be it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Soldier hated disloyalty more than anything else. Those who were loyal were a man of his word, and Demoman isn't one of them.</p>
<p>He throws a can of to the wall. Disloyalty was one thing. Distrust was another.</p>
<p>He stares at the door. He's not a civilian.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Demoman sits behind a box, away from all of the fighting. Soldier's head was beside him. Even if he was filled with hatred for the man, he was still filled with dread and regret. He didn't want to meet the patriot and hurt him. Soldier however, ran towards him with no hesitation.</p>
<p>Demoman rubs his temples. The Eyelander's chants were getting to his head.</p>
<p>"Ya really are a cursed sword, ain't ya?" After sheathing the sword, he looks at the head. "Ya never removed yer helmet."</p>
<p>He laughs bitterly.</p>
<p>"As if he can respond."</p>
<p>He takes a long swig before staring at the head again. </p>
<p>Soldier wouldn't be angry, right? If the Scot took a peek and looked at Soldier's eyes, he wouldn't know, right?</p>
<p>He removes the helmet.</p>
<p>He takes another swig.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As Soldier ran, he heard footsteps behind him and immediately turned and fired.</p>
<p>Oh. It was the traitor.</p>
<p>He stops in his tracks, looking at the corpse. He pulls out his shovel. Before plunging the tool into the corpse's neck, he hesitates.</p>
<p>Why wasn't he ever satisfied? No matter how much he fired, dominated, and humiliated the Scot, it never felt good. Only bad. Was it regret?</p>
<p>Soldier shakes his head. That was a sign of weakness. Weak men die, and he sure wasn't dead.</p>
<p>Before leaving, he thinks. Demoman never removed his eyepatch. He remembered the Scot telling him about a wizard, maybe that was a lie. Nonetheless, he was curious.</p>
<p>He kneels by the man's head, reaching for the eyepatch.</p>
<p>He pulls it back.</p>
<p>He vomits.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The cheery banter in the bar was deafening. The BLU team went to the local bar in celebration for their week-long win streak. However, even after achieving his personal best, Soldier frowns. He stares at his drink.</p>
<p>The BLU Scout was currently passed out beside him. The other mercenaries were nowhere to be found, except for the BLU Engineer, who was drunkenly mumbling away to the also passed out BLU Demoman.</p>
<p>Demoman.</p>
<p>"I'm going out for a smoke."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Soldier moves through the crowd towards the exit, whispering a few apologies along the way. After exiting, he sighs. Too crowded.</p>
<p>He reaches for his cigar and lighter. There is no lighter.</p>
<p>After searching through every single one of his pockets, he grumbles in defeat.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Ya need a light?"</p>
<p>His head turns to Demoman, who was wearing a red shirt. RED.</p>
<p>Before the patriot could talk, the Scot hands him a lighter. Soldier eyes it in disgust before hesitantly using it to light his cigar.</p>
<p>"Why are you here Cyclops?"</p>
<p>"This is the nearest bar."</p>
<p>"Losers don't get to celebrate."</p>
<p>"Booze ain't just for celebratin'."</p>
<p>He shakes his Scrumpy. He chuckles.</p>
<p>"Why so sad? I thought ya would be the loudest one in there."</p>
<p>Soldier grits his teeth. "Unlike you, I have dignity!"</p>
<p>Demoman laughs as smoke comes out of Soldier's mouth.</p>
<p>"Look who's talkin'. Dignity,", he snorts, "keep lyin' then maybe I'll believe ya."</p>
<p>Soldier punches Demoman's face, making him stumble backwards.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"You have no right to talk to me that way, you traitor! RED scum like you don't deserve dignity!"</p>
<p>Demoman breaks his bottle, pointing it to the patriot. "Traitor? Ya were the one agreed to kill me first!"</p>
<p>He stands, still holding the bottle.</p>
<p>"I thought that maybe, ya aren't all war talk, an actual human instead of a madman having rockets for toys!"</p>
<p>He spits blood.</p>
<p>"I was wrong."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Soldier's anger slowly turned to confusion.</p>
<p>"I agreed first? The woman told me you agreed first! Called me a... civilian!"</p>
<p>The cigar was long forgotten, fallen during the past scuffle. </p>
<p>"I thought... you betrayed my trust."</p>
<p>During his speech the helmet shifts on his head, his eyes were visible to Demoman. The Scot lowers his arm.</p>
<p>The patriot stiffens.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>"W-what are you doing?"</p>
<p>"Sorry."</p>
<p>"Dem-" "Tavish."</p>
<p>Soldier slowly leans on Demoman, unable to fully hug the Scot.</p>
<p>"...Jane."</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Zat's it? And I zought zat would last for a few more months!" The BLU Spy snorts and puts out his cigarette stub. "Cross-faction quarrels are not ideal." The RED Medic stares at the assassin in disbelief. "Last month you pitted my Spy and your Sniper for your amusement." "Such is war, mon ami."</p>
<p>A broken bottle rolls on the sidewalk as booming laughs echoed through the night.</p>
<p>"Aaaand zey are now merry-making." Medic searches for his car keys as he held the totally-legal goods tighter to his chest. "Maybe it was a mistake to bring Herr Demoman along." Spy raised a brow. "Have you ever tried to assist a drunk Demoman by yourself?" A snort. "I cannot argue with that."</p>
<p>Spy lights another cigarette and glances at Medic's van. After placing the bags inside, Medic stretches and stares at the happy pair. Before Medic could ask for assistance, the sound of cloaking was suddenly heard faintly behind him. "Verdammt."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Something, something, I guess. Can y'all tell I have never posted a fanfic before?<br/>Fresh Static Snow ALMOST made me want to write a soulmate AU. ALMOST.<br/>Since TF2 has been one of my favorites in the past few months (story and core gameplay wise), and WAR made me go nuts, here y'all go. A WAR fic, instead of a soulmate AU.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Lucky</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>https://youtu.be/clwyL21oTs0<br/>I'll Be Lucky Someday by Glen Campbell</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A soft breeze goes into Scout's room, waking the runner up. He slowly sits up and squints his eyes, adjusting to the harsh sunlight. The room's still messy. Or should he say their room? He looks at the Pyro, who insisted on keeping their suit on while they slept. Scout shrugs. If it keeps the firebug at bay, he doesn't mind. He already learned his mistake the first time he forced them to remove their suit. Being in a company for 2 weeks helps establish boundaries, but not repairs. That poor wall.</p><p></p><div>
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p></p>
    <div>
      <p></p>
      <div>
        <p></p>
        <div>
          <p></p>
          <div>
            <p>He gets up from his bed and heads to the open window. Yawning, he stares outside the two-story window and sees Sniper's van at the distance. The usual. He closes the window, he doesn't want to get accused of peeping at the bushman again.</p>
            <p>He raises his arms, the faint pops waking Pyro up. They rub the lenses of their mask and looks at Scout. "Mmph mmmng." </p>
            <p>Not looking at Pyro, he gives a short hum and goes back to stretching his limbs again.</p>
            <p>Pyro looks at the clock and giggles. Not because of the time, but because of the small colorful designs that adorns it. </p>
            <p>"Wait, what time is it, Py?" Pyro looks at the clock. They raise six fingers, then 3 fingers, then made a circle with both of their thumbs and index fingers.</p>
            <p>"Ah geez, 6:30? Why didn't ya tell me! Come on, I gotta go!" Pyro cocked their head to the side. "Mmt mmmr mmt mmmphd mmay mmpay?" Scout groans. "It's Engie's turn to cook." </p>
            <p>Pyro immediately leaps out and runs out of the room, leaving Scout behind. "H-hey wait! Dammit Py!"</p>
            <p> </p>
            <p> </p>
            <p>They were back in the room again, on the floor surrounded by comic strips and stolen blank blueprint paper. Pyro happily stares at their work, their unseen smile growing as they drew a sentry-like balloonicorn that blows out rainbows.</p>
            <p>"Hey, can I have a hand at dat? You can like, add something else to dis." Pyro hesitantly hands the pencil to Scout, who left his bed to look at Pyro's work. After sketching out a burning Spy beside the contraption, Pyro claps in glee. </p>
            <p>"I know I'm a pretty amazin' artist, ya don't have t-" Pyro presses a finger to Scout's mouth and took the pencil. "Mmmt mp. Mmmp mmmmmng." Scout groans then hopped back to his bed.</p>
            <p>"Mmw mmmt mmo Mmph mmd? Hmmm..."</p>
            <p>Scout keeps shuffling, rereading another panel.</p>
            <p>"Mmmbe mmmt?"</p>
            <p>The runner resorts to reading another comic strip, groaning again.</p>
            <p>"Pyyyyy."</p>
            <p>"Mmmmt."</p>
            <p>"Pyyyyy."</p>
            <p>"Mmmt?"</p>
            <p>"I'm bored."</p>
            <p>"Mmmd mmmr mmmmc."</p>
            <p>"I'm already reading, and I'm bored!"</p>
            <p>Pyro turns to Scout, unamused. "Mmny mmmas?" Scout drops the comic in his hands. He rubs his chin, then suddenly snaps his fingers. "I got this thing from Australia, you'll like it!" He stands and shuffles through his drawers, earning a questioning 'Mmmph?' from Pyro.</p>
            <p>Scout raises the object in his hands in triumph, grinning. He also pulls out a circular disk. Pyro curiously stares at the objects. "Mmmt's mmmt?" "Forgot. You'll see, though." After opening the thing, he inserts the disk inside it. He closes it then pressed a button.</p>
            <p>A soft jazzy melody plays. Pyro stares in awe and looks back at Scout. "I told ya you'd like it." He then puts it on the drawer and laid on his bed.</p>
            <p> </p>
            <p>"<em>Feeling low, feeling blue. All the troubles come my way.</em>"</p>
            <p>Pyro sways their head to the music. Scout stays silent, back to reading comics again.</p>
            <p>"<em>But I just won't worry, I'll be lucky someday.</em>"</p>
            <p>Pyro looks at their drawing, then at Scout's.</p>
            <p>"<em>My money's gone, ain't got no friends. More debts than I can face.</em>"</p>
            <p>They should definitely remind themselves to not burn this one.</p>
            <p>"<em>But I just won't worry, I'll be lucky someday.</em>"</p>
            <p>Maybe they can trust the Boston boy after all.</p>
            <p>
              
            </p>
          </div>
        </div>
      </div>
    </div>
  </div>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Friendship, yay?</p><p>Pyro Translations:<br/>"Good morning."<br/>"But we're not supposed to play today?"</p><p>"Shut up. Keep reading."<br/>"Now what do I add? Hmmm..."<br/>"Maybe that?"<br/>"Scout."<br/>"What?"<br/>"Any ideas?"<br/>"Wh?"<br/>"What's that?"</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Dance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>https://youtu.be/6TuoQFgAYuU<br/>The Night That Never End</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A lone man took another drag of his cigarette. He sits alone on a bench, and the passerby's judgmental stares only aggravated him. Slouching, he puffs and creates a small cloud of black smoke. He'll have to find some 'friendlier' garments after this mission, he thinks. </p><p>While fixing his attire, he spots people familiar to him from afar, a woman and her children walking just around the corner. He quickly puts out his cigarette and throws it to a nearby trash can, which was the sidewalk. He quickly hides the stub under his shoe.</p><p>Strangers should know public decency.</p><p>He puts on his sunglasses and pulls out a small book. He casually leans on the backrest of the bench, yet still observant. The woman's cheery smile caused the man to faintly grin. She never lost her spark, did she?</p><p> </p><p>Behind her were 3 boys, all but one having the same energy the woman has. The youngest boy seemed to be sad about something, but the woman doesn't seem to notice. They all pass by him, and in a stroke of luck, the two older sons started causing a ruckus, leaving the woman to focus all her attention on them instead. The youngest sits beside the man, sighing.</p><p>Closing his book, he clears his throat and speaks in a tone not his own. "What's got you down, kid?" The boy stares at him, then looks at his mom. "She says I'm not supposed to talk to strangers." The man laughs. "Good, good. She's quite protective, ain't she?" The boy frowns. </p><p>"How would you know?"</p><p>The man quickly regains his composure. "It's obvious." The boy scoots away a bit. "Riiight." They decide to stay in silence, the man opting to read his book again.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
"Baseball."</p><p>"Hm?"</p><p>"Have you played baseball?"</p><p> </p><p><br/>
The man closes his book again, placing it on his lap. "I have," The boy smiles. "but it's been a while since I swung a bat." The boy suddenly stands, grinning. "If I had a bat, I could teach you! Too bad my ma wouldn't let me." The man snickers. "I'm too old for that, kid."</p><p>Before the boy could reply, the woman comes back, fingers hooked on two ears, and calls for him. "Jeremy, who are you talking to?" Jeremy immediately walks closer to his mother. "Sorry ma, but we were uh, talking about baseball." The woman tuts him, letting go from her grip on her two elder boys and reaches for Jeremy's hand. "I'm sorry for him bothering you, sir."</p><p>The man smiles apologetically and waves a hand. "It's okay, that kid gave me some needed conversation anyway. He's a good kid." The woman nods, then stops, staring. "I'm sorry, but have we met before?" The man shakes his head. "No, ma'am. I would've remembered a wonderful woman like you." The man immediately regrets not having the impulse control in flirtation. He holds his breath.</p><p>The woman gives a hearty laugh. "Well aren't you a charmer? This has certainly been interesting. Hopefully we see you some day again, ain't that right, Jeremy?" Jeremy nods enthusiastically. The man exhales softly. He waves farewell to the family.</p><p>Now that they were out of sight, he pulls out a metal device and takes another cigarette. He lights it and puts a stick between his lips. That was close.</p><p>He was supposed to just scout the area, but through mere happenstance, he just had to see them again. He sighs. The sun is setting, it's time to move.</p><p><br/>
-</p><p><br/>
<em>He never planned to be a dancer, he never did. He dreamt of something else, of wine and fresh air.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>This job was never kind to him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His job entailed him to dance, and all he can do is sigh in dismay as he sways to the beat of lies and murder.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He just happened to bump into her, the apple of his eye. He speaks of a false name and a false background, and she was ever so warm.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She already had eight children under her belt, but that wouldn't stop him from loving her.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Perhaps it was a mistake, to love her too much.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Their love bloomed and soon he had a son, a young son that he would've watched grow into a young and proud man.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His job was never kind to him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Fleeing with only a single parchment of goodbye, he was gone.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sometimes he wonders if anything would be different if something went wrong or right. He tries to forget.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He starts a tango with his past.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What would be different?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What would be d-</em>
</p><p> </p><p><br/>
"Spook, you alright mate?"</p><p>Spy awakes from his trance. "No need to worry about me, bushman. I was just zinking." "It seems a bit disrespectful to truckie, don't you think?" He turns to the Engineer who was currently playing the banjo. </p><p>"He knows I'm not ze type to enjoy gatherings." "Me neither." The Frenchman steps on a cigarette stub as a response. Sniper shrugs and directs his attention to the bonfire, much to the other's delight.</p><p>He observes the attendees, grimacing. Medic and Heavy were talking, Demoman was passed out on a log, Soldier was surprisingly solemn, actually sitting instead of doing something else, and Engineer was still playing the instrument. The only ones that weren't sitting are Pyro and Scout, who were dancing in rhythm to Engie's song.</p><p>Scout stops and turns to Spy's direction and grins mischievously. "Hey Spy." "No." Scout pouts and puts a hand on his side. "Oh come on! I haven't even asked yet." Spy rolls his eyes, biting hard on the cigarette.</p><p>"I already know, and ze answer iz no, Scout." Scout crosses his arms. "I thought girls liked a good dancer." "I'm not doing a demonstration for you." "You're the suave one!" Spy rubs his temples and sighs.</p><p><br/>
"I'm not planning to dance for anyone."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Damn, if 2020 was different I would be hanging out with my relatives right now :(<br/>But instead, a fanfic! I didn't mind typing out one, though.<br/>I planned to write for Christmas last week, but life decided to mess with me.</p><p>Should I change it to TF2 Song Drabbles instead? Sorry, I'm not that great with fanfic lingo :,)</p><p>Belated Happy Holidays and Happy New Year! Wherever you are, since well, there's 2 hours are left before it strikes midnight for me. :&gt;</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Lavender</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>https://youtu.be/ygmZ8hZPix8<br/>Sweet Talk</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Snipes, can ya like, add some wood to da fireplace? I'm freezin' 'ere!" Scout yells as he scoots closer to Pyro. The firebug only nuzzles closer, sharing their warmth. "Why don't <em>you</em> do it? I'm pretty busy right now." Sniper replies as he continues to knit a sweater. Scout sinks further into the blanket. "That isn't even important!" "You're the only one I haven't made a sweater for yet. You want to freeze to death, mate?" Scout shakes his head slowly. Sniper looks back at his work, smiling smugly. "How about you, gramps?" Medic sighs as he loses his focus on the chess board. "Just because I'm ze oldest- you can't call me like zat. And no, I'm busy." Heavy nods in agreement, moving his king two squares ahead. Before they could bicker, they hear four uneven knocks.</p><p>"Oho, Frau Pauling is here! Don't move anyzing!" Medic warns Heavy as he walks to the door. Quickly opening it, he grasps Pauling's hand and pulls her inside. "Oh thank you, it was getting too cold out there." Scout slowly gets out from the blanket, making Pyro voice out muffles of discomfort.</p><p>Scout leans on the open doorway close to the entrance. "Hey, uh, Miss Pauling! How's the weather out there?" Pauling shakes her head to remove the snow and gives her lavender coat to Medic. "Cold, Scout." Scout winks at Pauling. "Just shows how cool you a-" "Nein, nein! Ve're not going to go through zis again!" Medic pushes Scout back towards the warm room and guides Pauling towards his lab. Scout tries to follow them, however it only makes Heavy stare at him disapprovingly. Scout raises his hands in defense and slinks into the blanket again. He sighs, thinking of lavender. "She's so sweet, right, Py?" Pyro rolls their eyes, even if Scout couldn't see it. Scout playfully punches them on the shoulder.<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>"- and it's a stealth mission. I'm entrusting it to Spy to do most of the work, but I'm still counting on you. There should be no guards, it says in his report... Scout? Scout are you listening?" Scout snaps out of his trance, losing his gaze of the night sky. "Uh, yeah! I was definitely listenin'! I heard ya!" He hears a low groan on the other end. "What did I say, then?"</p><p>He scratches his chin, illuminated by the stars.</p><p>"Don't trust him."</p><p>"Dammit."<br/><br/></p><p>"Me and Spy managed to hack the building's cameras, so I'll be watching you two. Be careful." He suppresses the squeal that almost built on his throat. He coughs a bit and slowly sneaks inside. He luckily finds the room full of folders and paperwork immediately. After staring around the room, he locks the door just in case the guards suddenly arrive.</p><p>He turns on the light and scours through the cabinets. He felt a bit awkward with the silence, so he whistles a random tune. "Scout, focus." "I am focusin'!" He half-whispers, still looking through the files. "Look through S. Hopefully the folder is there, the one with the green stamp." He scurries over to the next cabinet and hums again, this time making a familiar melody.</p><p>He finally finds the folder that they were looking for. He pulls it out triumphantly. He hears shuffling on the other end, then a gasp. He stands up and stretches his legs as he curiously waits for Pauling's instructions.</p><p>"Scout?" He nods then quickly yells a "Yes!". "...We have a problem." He hears shouting outside the door. Suddenly, the door was being banged and shaken. "I thought there was no one here!?" "There was a rat." Pauling replies in a hushed tone. "Spy should be there any second." "How the hell is Spy gon-?"</p><p>A ventilation shaft suddenly falls from the ceiling, making Scout look up in disdain. "Oh." A rope hangs from the vent. "Quickly, you fool." He rolls his eyes and hesitantly climbs up the rope.</p><p> </p><p>The door bursts open, and the guards only see an open vent and a messy office.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He stands up slowly and regains his balance after tripping. He jogs up to her with his grin still there even with a bleeding nose. "Can't ya just give me a hug?" "A no's a no, Scout. Why would I give you a hug?" Scout smirks and wiggles his eyebrows.</p><p>"You miss me a lot after the mission? Aaaand I got the thing?"</p><p>"Stop dreaming and let's get you a med kit."<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p>He strengthens his grip on the shovel as he digs deeper. He looks behind him, and opens his mouth, about to say something. He closes it instead, choosing to admire her. Her hair glistens under the moonlight while she drags a dead body from afar. She wipes the sweat off her forehead and accidentally covers it with blood. It somehow has a purple, no, lavender shine because of the night. Heavy brings two sacks of quicklime towards Scout, helping with the body disposal. Scout leans on the shovel, grinning.</p><p>"Ain't she stunning?" </p><p>Heavy only drops the sacks in response.</p><p> </p><p>He leans on the car's inner walls as he tries to drift off to sleep. He couldn't get rid of the lavender in his mind. He still keeps his eyes closed though and tries to focus on the somehow calming sound of the bumpy road. After a few failed attempts of trying to sleep, he feels someone lean on his shoulder. He opens his eyes and processes it, making him softly smile. He closes his eyes again- this time with a sleepy grin.</p><p>
  
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Just got this song in my playlist and immediately remembered one-sided Scout/Pauling.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Stars</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>https://youtu.be/nDjAt7zj7Z8<br/>Constellations by The Oh Hellos</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stars were always a constant. Everywhere he went, everywhere he walked, he'd always see the stars eventually. In those solemn moments, he'd watch, and it would remind him of better times. A younger him would have stared at the white dots for hours, with silly dreams of catching them in his hands. Then his mother would coerce him to go to sleep.</p><p>With a quiet hum and a gentle tug, he'd go to sleep with his mother by his side. Back then, he would have complained once or twice about the cold. The following years were a blur.</p><p>The forced labor and toil he had to deal with didn't leave him with much time to reminisce.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Misha?"</p><p>He snapped back to reality, the sound of chaos ringing through his ears. What was he doing? He was running. <em>They</em> were running. From what? He sees fire- the calloused hand holding his own tightened. While he ran, he looked back.</p><p>His desperation grew, seeing his family follow him, his mother and younger sisters gasping for dear life. Where were they going? He doesn't know. The stars were taunting him.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Seeing another human being in the mountains was an unpleasant surprise, he decided. She looked too professional, even with the puffy lavender coat that made her look smaller than she actually was. The backdrop of the night sky behind her made her seem foreboding. He let her in anyway, deciding to hear what she had to say.</p><p>Seeing his family interact with her, Zhanna being slightly more hostile than the rest, was concerning. He couldn't blame them. Even with their hardships, hospitality was still in their nature. After dinner, his family stayed away from the room both he and the woman were in. The negotiation, the money, she only wanted one thing: his loyalty.</p><p>And sometimes he wondered if accepting the deal was a mistake.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He questioned the work environment at first. Firstly, they went with codenames instead of their given ones. Second, the men around him wasn't like the women had described. They had varied personalities and expertise. Some spoke too fast, too loud, and some didn't even speak at all. Some exuded a professional aura, and some seemed friendlier. Yet somehow, even with these differences, some of these strangers didn't mind the air of unfamiliarity and death around them, conversing as if they were friends for a long time. He stayed silent through the whole ordeal.</p><p>The promise of immortality seemed like a sick lie just to pull people in. After dying to a glowing pipe bomb however, he wasn't so sure anymore.</p><p>It was nauseating, the first time he spawned back to existence. Another man spawned with him, the healer of the team- Medic, they called him. The man yelled foreign words, he assumed he was cursing. He didn't realize he was kneeling down, so he slowly stood up and  noticed the machine gun nearby. He picked it up and turned to the Medic. The man finally calmed down and held his medigun to his waist, his shoulders slightly slouched.</p><p>"That vould take some time getting used to. Are you alright, Herr Heavy?" Heavy nodded. "Is fine. Come, we still have job." They walked past the automatic shutter door and into the battlefield.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The high of the fight was long gone, and now he sat in front of his desk beside the bedroom window. He removed his attention from the book in his hands and instead payed attention to the outside of their base. All he could see was sand miles away. He quietly chuckled at the sight of stars still covering the night sky. After all these years, the stars would still taunt him again. It was stupid to think that these would disappear in his lifetime.</p><p>He closed the book and placed it on the desk, choosing to look for constellations in silence.</p><p>
  
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  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. To My Enemy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>https://youtu.be/OzJRmwK_Dro<br/>To My Enemies by Saint Motel</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I didn't have much energy to continue the other fics like the recent one, so instead I indulged in a ship :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When did they even start to dislike each other?</p><p>It definitely wasn't because of their different nationalities, the BLU Soldier thinks, since he never held that against the BLU Medic (not out of fear, he'd tell himself).</p><p>Was it their clashing strategies? Soldier shook his head. They always managed to work it out at the end of a meeting.</p><p>Maybe it was their personalities? Or maybe-</p><p>"Mission begins in 60 seconds."</p><p>He should stop thinking, shouldn't he.</p><p> </p><p>The BLU Medic was sitting down cross-legged, his perfect posture abandoned long ago. The BLU Soldier sat with legs stretched out. Both of their weapons were gone, and the RED's jeers were still far away. Soldier straightened his back, looking at his front. He slightly moved in discomfort, the mud on his bum being an annoyance.</p><p>"I hate you."</p><p>The patriot stayed silent, preferring to think about the statement. What should he say back to Medic? 'Why?' 'What do you mean?' even if he knew fully well why the ex-doctor hated him. Because he rushed in prematurely, respawn took both of them and prevented them from stopping the RED's capture in time.</p><p>He finally turned to his left, watching Medic tend to his wounds the old-fashioned way. The broken medigun beside them was a reminder of their failure.</p><p>"I hate you too." Soldier finally whispered.</p><p>Medic didn't look up and continued wrapping the bandages around his knees. He avoided Soldier's gaze and looked at the other's broken ankle instead. He slightly grimaced at the sight of the exposed flesh. It wasn't because he was squeamish around gore- he's been exploded and gutted multiple times- because the flesh was <em>Soldier's</em>. Seeing the patriot get hurt over and over again still took a reaction out of him after all these years.</p><p> </p><p>When the RED's hollers finally went silent, Medic finally asked. "Can you valk?" Soldier harrumphed. "Are you underestimating me, cupcake?" Medic cringed at the nickname. He shook his head. "I'm just asking if you can stand, schweinhund." "Then I'm perfectly-" Soldier yelped as he fell over, a failed attempt. Medic snickered.</p><p>"Do I have to carry you?"</p><p>"Affirmative."</p><p> </p><p>Medic's eyes slightly widened. he expected the patriot to resist.</p><p> </p><p>"A-are you sure, Herr Soldier?" Medic quickly patted Soldier, spy-checking. Soldier whacked the hand away. "It's a tactical maneuver. Even if you aren't American, you have to help the fellow man in this time of war!"</p><p>After a few grunts and grasped arms, Medic scooped Soldier into his arms and headed to the BLU Resupply.</p><p>Medic learned that Soldier wasn't as heavy as he thought. Soldier's surprisingly soft grip to his coat was... a welcome change.</p><p> </p><p>The walk to the infirmary was uneventful.</p><p>He received surprised glances here and there, but he didn't care. He kicked open the swinging doors and marched towards the operating table. He slowly placed Soldier down and hurriedly removed the cloth covering the spare minigun hanging in its holster. He turned it on and directed it towards Soldier.</p><p>"Thanks, Doc."</p><p>Medic only hummed back and knelt, observing Soldier's legs. He didn't miss the flinch or the reddening on his patient's cheeks.</p><p>Medic feigned ignorance and took out a clipboard, prepared to write down the team's injuries. Soldier fidgeted with his hands, swinging his legs.</p><p>"I'm grateful for your help Doc. You're a very valuable member of our team!"</p><p>Medic didn't miss the way Soldier slightly deflated as he replied with a single "Danke.".<br/>
 </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The alliance was humiliating for the BLU Medic. And probably even more so for the BLU Soldier, but Miss Pauling said so. If she says it's final, it's final.</p><p>Only the BLU Demoman didn't mind, but Medic expected that already.</p><p>He pushed his thoughts away and prepared his weaponry as swiftly as he could. The confidence in his actions dwindled ever since they regrouped. He was unsure if continuing to stick with the RED Heavy was ideal, but then again, the BLUs left with him were a drunkard and an idiot. He'd rather take a RED with him instead.</p><p>He brandished the medigun for the rest to see, although most of them stared uncaringly. Only the BLU Soldier stared differently, but Medic couldn't pinpoint what emotion was on the American's face. They started a staring contest, only to be stopped by the RED Engineer's southern drawl about robotics.</p><p>Yes, he'd rather take a RED instead.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"I love you."</p><p>Maybe it was because of the situation, maybe it was because they were almost surrounded- he didn't know. The BLU Medic didn't waste time in reacting openly and focused on the battlefield.</p><p>"Vhy?" Medic half-heartedly asked.</p><p>"Why wouldn't I?" Soldier full-heartedly replied.</p><p>Medic gritted his teeth.</p><p>"Vhy now?"</p><p>Soldier stayed silent, passingly grunting as he took the force of the rocket launcher.</p><p> </p><p>Which is more terrifying, the sound of defeat, or the sound of silence? Medic couldn't tell.</p><p> </p><p>"Ve're not going down <em>yet</em>, and you know zis." Soldier looked at Medic, his mouth turned down.</p><p>"And I <em>refuse </em>zis attitude of yours!" Medic watched his medigun slowly cackle. He looked out for the Sniperbots.</p><p>"Once ve're done, <em>Herr Soldier</em>," He readied his finger.</p><p>"Ve're going to have a talk!" He pressed down, basking in the start of their 8 seconds of glory.</p><p>Soldier wasted no time firing, a wide toothy smile on his face.</p><p>"Now that's the spirit, cupcake!"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I didn't draw a sketch for this one specifically, so have this one Soldic I made days ago instead<br/>https://twitter.com/P0ppet___/status/1382337127048835074/photo/1<br/>Feel free to follow, although I'm not consistent with posting</p><p> </p><p>also i'd like to thank my friend for reading a bit for me :)</p><p> </p><p>  <strike>i should prob change the beta tag...</strike></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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